Sociology

Sociology hit me like the Holy Ghost!

Prior to studying sociology as part of my Advanced Levels, I had yearned for knowledge, for reason; and I had begun to question many things like my family’s relative poverty or Nigeria’s unending struggles – a nation in seemingly perpetual labour; at once pleading to be born, and yet detesting Life, afraid of Living. I had been consumed by religion as an adolescent and in my early teens. I had built a deep relationship with Jesus, the Christ; one that would lead me to reject the Methodist Church of my mother in favour of the newer Pentecostal “born-again” churches that sprang up all over Nigeria in the 80s and 90s – in all their militant glory. And yet, I had later slowly, but surely, begun to question the fundamental facets of the Christian religion. Such urges were tentative at first, somewhat shameful (and guilt-ridden), given the eagerness of my born-again conversion and the enduring spirituality of my mother – a woman for whom I continue to have the utmost respect and deepest affection.

But I was never one for self-delusion, so I continued to entertain my doubts but only in my mind, as there was no one I could talk to or trust enough to challenge on the subject. So, alone in my meditations, I strived for meaning and purpose. Then I made the acquaintance of Sociology which literally blew my mind. It did so not by magic or unique eloquence but by the simplicity and ease with which it seemed to encourage my thoughts. All of a sudden, here was a discipline where it seemed nothing was beyond discussion, rationality or challenge: nothing was taboo or sacred. Gigantic concepts like Religion, Gender, Education and Poverty could all be dissected and analysed, like a science; with the conclusions falling wherever they did, guarded nor guided by no particular sacredness or unwelcome blasphemy. POSITIVISM, MARXISM; DURKHEIM, PARSONS, MARX all took on real and immortal existences. It was a licence to think. To dream.

There was a price to pay of course – a floating, unsettled spirit no longer able to place phenomena in easy ready-to-go categories. Everything became merely a pawn in something larger: a bigger plot of power and servitude, of uprisings and suppression, of connectedness and relativity. I came to understand that in life there was a price to pay for everything, good or bad, pleasant or repugnant, short- or long-term, imagined or real, knowing and unknowing, hard-hearted or warm, emotional or otherwise, rich or poor, powerful or powerless, thinkers like me or those who refuse to think and who prefer the simplicity of straight lines etc.


Yours,